Lost
Words lost into the horizon
fading light of day passing to night.
Trees hold ground of their
fathers and grandfathers
and further down the line
tracing back to the one tree.
Such lineage and wisdom
gained from time, awareness, and silence.
Spoken words not enough.
Written thoughts lost in translation
the fire smolders.
Ears open and mouth shut.
Anything beyond now cast away.
This place, this plane.
Thank you. I appreciate the comments.
Decidedly random. Good stuff. The six lines about trees would have been enough for me, actually. Keep writing, good luck!